


heat source

by QueenOfSkaro



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fic spans the quest, M/M, Oblivious Thorin, Ones, Reasonable Thorin, Tumblr Prompt, au-gallery, because I say so, soulmate-AU, who would have thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6573313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSkaro/pseuds/QueenOfSkaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For au-gallery's prompt on tumblr:</p>
<p>"Your body plays a game of hot and cold to locate your soulmate,<br/>the hotter you are the closer you are to your soulmate,<br/>the colder the farther away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	heat source

Now, of all the times, his body decided to turn against him.  
Dwarfs weren't prone to sickness, but when it settled it does so violently and long lasting.

His meeting with the other dwarven lords didn't exactly went splendidly – he fought bodily with four of seven and even cut ones hair off. Not on purpose and not all of it, but it would need some creative braiding skills to go unnoticed.  
Thorin fled as fast as he could after that, but it wasn't as if he left potential allies behind – they wouldn't have helped them anyway.

That was frustrating in and off itself, but only a few days into his journey to the Shire, where the wizard promised the fourteenth member of their company lived, the mother of all storms decided to rage exactly where he stood. He was sure it wasn't metaphorically and the dark cloud followed him around for eight days for giggles. It couldn't be normal otherwise and he couldn't just wait it out either, because he was on a tight enough schedule without camping only to avoid getting wet.

As he got closer to the Shire he regretted his decision to not just let the weather pass him. His skin drew tight, his balance suffered and he got hotter by the day. And not the good kind of hot, but the kind where you wanted to rip your clothes off and bath in ice.

As it was, with his schedule to reclaim a long lost home and the blatant lack of ice on the green hills surrounding him he had to shoulder through the fever like every dwarf:  
strong and enduring on the outside, begging for it to stop on the inside.

He was so deep in his inner lamentation he walked past the dirt road he was supposed to take in order to reach their burglars house, only noticing it half an hour later and then he had to trudge back in a sour mood.

A wave of heat rolled over him as he passed one of the round doors the hobbits seemed to favor, making him gasp for breath and urging him to lean onto a fence post. It stopped soon enough, settling on an even warmth under his skin he was able to handle.

Lifting his gaze he focused onto the faded rune on the door beside him. He arrived at his destination at last. With a little luck he could get a decent nights sleep to pacify his raging fever. He knocked on the green wood and shoved his sickness down to be dealt with later.  
His company awaited him.

* * *

Rivendell was the worst case scenario for the first part of their journey. Looking at how unerringly they walked right into the court yard maybe Thorin should have seen the rest coming.

While the bath in the cold fountain was by far more enjoyable than he'd ever confess to he could have forgone the sneaking out at night bit – only shortly after the bad news of their ultimatum – and, mere days after leaving the treacherous safety of the elven city, another downpour of epic proportions.

His fever was deeply rooted in his wary bones even before, but now Thorin wasn't entirely optimistic to ever get rid of it again.

Then came the stone giants, because why shouldn't they appear on cue with them literally in their lap. The path was probably used two thousand times without that happening, _but of course, **of course -**_

Bilbo hanging off a cliff pulled him out of his silent rage more effective than he thought possible and Thorin didn't even think about it as he jumped into the abyss, hauling his hobbit onto more or less safer grounds. He was fairly certain they weren't standing on another giant, but wet stone was dangerous enough as it was.

Touching the burglar coincided with another pulsating fever wave, knocking into him with force and he promptly lost his hold. Only thanks to Dwalin was he standing next to his company again, next to the careless burglar who seemed like a welcome outlet for his stored up frustration and anger.

Thorin started yelling.

* * *

The goblin cave felt unnaturally cold and it took effort not to shiver with it as they were marched off in front of the goblin king – who was so ugly Thorin allowed a violent shiver as it was a welcome excuse to let some of the tension in his bones go.

He wished the warmth of his fever back as a tremor took hold of his body, making him vibrate with the need to keep it all inside him.  
He jumped in front of Ori as he was assaulted.

The exercise of the fighting shed a little discomfort, but it only got better as they stood outside in the last bouts of sunlight, getting warmer and warmer and not stopping at a comfortable temperature, instead almost stifling him.

“Where's Bilbo?”, someone called out and again Thorin vented against his unease and dizziness.

* * *

Having Bilbo in his arm felt -  
Thorin liked to think of himself as eloquent, but he drew short with this little hobbit.  
The word only came to him once he let go again.  
_Settling._  
He felt calm and stable.  
And while his fever spiked high, it wasn't smothering.

Bilbo started tending for Thorin and his wounds and the injured started to think about a fever that stayed too long, even for a dwarf.

A suspicion was formed.

* * *

Being at Beorns didn't help any to confirm or deny his suspicion. It was too close quartered for his fever to waver much and as he was mostly on bed rest to make him fit for the rest of their quest, he couldn't widen the distance between them without at least one dwarf catching him and marching him back to his cot.

Mirkwood was worse in every aspect of the word. Paired with his general discomfort of sickness it was the most stifling experience of his life, making him wish to at last exit this Mahal forsaken forest.

As the spiders came Thorins only comfort was that Bilbo was high above them and that he was getting colder already.

* * *

He was freezing. It shouldn't be this vicious, but maybe it was because they spend so much time together without actually being together. As it was he shivered violently as he sat on his cot in the elven dungeons.

But it meant that they hadn't gotten hold of Bilbo and that made the dwarf smile despite himself.  
It also meant that Thorin spend months with his One without realizing it wasn't sickness plaguing him. He would make sure no one ever found out – maybe he'd just tell everyone that he couldn't need a distraction on this quest. It sounded quite fitting for his character.

Slowly, ever so slowly, warmth seemed to seep back into his pores. Scared to find Bilbo arrested too he jumped up towards the bars, looking out over the wide expanse of cells frantically. But even though the heat poured over him in waves again he couldn't see anything. Starting to believe that, just as the thought of having found his One made him happy and excited, it was only a fever after all he quickly found himself in a frenzy of anger and panic and worry.

He didn't question Bilbo appearing out of nowhere. He was too grateful to see him.

* * *

Humans were petty, so small and meaningless. Itty-bitty humans coming to his mountain, demanding his gold.  
For what exactly did he owe them? He paid that bargeman for passage and weapons – and he didn't even get those!

How was he at fault they were stupid enough to live at the foot of a dragon-inhabited mountain? The burning of Lake Town was hardly his fault.

Thorin felt like a dragon himself, _scalding, strong, surrounded by gold_. A more powerful dragon than Smaug, who got himself killed by insects. But the king under the mountain would rule in his stead, burning everything endangering his treasure, for as long as his fire burned steady -

He got colder.

The realization was enough to shock him motionless. Ever growing colder, the fire left him, made him shiver, looking around in confusion. What could - ?

**Bilbo!**

Without realizing what it meant, without even wasting a thought to the fact that his gold sickness was broken, conquered by his little One, he left the treasury in a run, swirling coins up left and right.

“ **Bilbo!** ”, he yelled, despite the knowledge that he was too far away to hear him.  
As his company drew closer and asked questions he ignored them all, focusing on the sharp sting left by receding heat. No one knew where Bilbo was and that was not acceptable. Not in a world where war was only -

_Oh._

His hobbit, always doing the right thing.  
“He's with the men.”, Thorin concluded. Either to negotiate or because he couldn't stand to be with Thorin anymore.  
This wouldn't do.

The king send his company to stuff what gold they could carry into bags. Half of them stayed back, the other accompanied him on his track to the old ruins of Dale.  
They only made it halfway before they were intercepted by a small group of elvish guards.  
If he hadn't been as concerned about Bilbo, he would have made a comment about elves not brave enough to face them alone, but as it was he just wanted to see his One.

“I'm here for negotiations.”, he spoke regally in hopes that it was what Bilbo came for.

As they were led through the camp – at sword-point the little wankers – they earned distrustful looks where they went, but it wasn't as if Thorin overly cared. He was feeling warmer with every step and that was enough to jog faster to keep up with the elves long strides.

They entered what clearly was Thranduils tent and were greeted by looks of surprise from the bargeman and the little hobbit. Thranduil must have heard them coming with those long ears of his, but the dwarf didn't think any more about that. Striding over to Bilbo he threw his bag onto the table in front of the man, making it clink with the coins in it. He didn't breath until the smaller being was in his arms, pressed to his chest, sending wave after wave of burning heat through his body. 

“T-Thorin, what -”, Bilbo aborted his inquiry as he was kissed quite thoroughly by the dwarf.

“Yes, as theatrically as that display is, why don't you stop it and give me what you owe me.”, Thranduil demanded silkily after they took a moment too long.

Separating from Bilbo brought his surroundings into focus again, making him realize that his fever broke and instead of being too hot or too cold he was truly well for the first time since he met his hobbit.  
The same one that looked quite speechless and a little dazed as Thorin turned to the elf, starting to speak but coming up short as he spotted the arkenstone lying there innocently. 

On the edges of his vision he saw his companions staring at it in fascination, noticed the elf smirk imperiously and Bilbo blanching dramatically.  
But in the center of his attention was the gemstone of his dreams, the stone he looked for frantically and now Bilbo had found it – and hadn't brought it to him, but instead took it to his enemies.

Taking a step from the hobbit was automatically, but hands grabbing at him brought him back again.

“No, please, I – I didn't steal it. Well, I did, but only – oh, Yavannah, no. This is not how you should have – Thorin, please, don't look at me like that.”, Bilbo begged, literally begged, pawing at him with his little hands, trying to get him to listen. And if it was that important to him – maybe he did have an explanation to steal the most important jewel in his entire mountain and shove it down the elf kings throat.

Not able to speak without spewing insults he gave him a jerky nod, which prompted him to ramble on about the need to avoid a war, his wish to keep them all safe, to protect them and lastly his fear for Thorin, because he was gone with gold lust and he couldn't do anything to snap him out of it.

As he finished he waited with bated breath for a reaction, but the dwarf needed a while to process all that. It seemed too much and for a moment he was tempted to recede back into his mind, to let the sickness take over again, but then he thought of another sickness, a fever he had for the whole journey, an unease that was gone now.

What did Bilbo do?  
He tried to protect them in the only way he could think of, by taking the arkenstone from under his gold sick nose and taking it to his foes as a bargaining chip. To keep them safe. To keep them from war. His One protected his company.  
As he thought about it like that he couldn't have been prouder.

His pocket was still heavy and he shoved his hand into it, pulling out a little satchel of eerily white gems and laying it onto the table in front of Thranduil.  
“To continue what my One started I brought an offering of peace.”, Thorin stated stiffly, then waved his friends to take off their bags. They put them onto the floor in front of Bard and opened them a little to show their contents. The man was obviously shocked by that much gold, but Thorin was sure he'd get over it soon enough.

“That should be all we owe you. But – as means to build relations on good terms I am willing to extend my help beyond what you see here.”, the dwarf offered clumsily. He wasn't good at apologizing and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to, but it was pretty obvious that he said the right thing as Bilbo gripped his arm tighter and pressed himself closer.

Wrapping both arms around the hobbit he pressed his nose into his soft curls, smelling smoke and metal and sweat and grinning widely, as his One already smelt like a dwarf.

As the negotiations got taken over by Balin Thorin heard Bilbo draw a shaky breath.  
“Thank you.”, he whispered and the dwarf hurt a little that he thought it necessary to thank him. Shaking his head softly he locked gazes with the other, staring at him full of adoration.

“ _Thank you._ ”, Thorin returned.


End file.
